


Love at First Sight

by ItinerantAvthor



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, I have absolutely no idea how to pronounce t'hy'la, Jim pines like an idiot, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor/Temporary Amnesia, Spock gets hurt on an away mission, T'hy'la
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 17:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17268662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItinerantAvthor/pseuds/ItinerantAvthor
Summary: Spock gets hurt on an away mission, and when he wakes up he doesn't recognize Jim - in the least angsty way possible. (Based on that video where the guy wakes up from surgery and immediately starts hitting on his wife.)





	Love at First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Is this lil guy a fun and silly thing to keep me writing? Yep! Is it also a distraction from my larger ICHFILWY? YEP! (Writing is hard and I distracted myself with this oops)

Jim sat near the biobed, legs tucked under him as he sat and filled out forms on endless PADDs. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as his gaze flicked up once more to the figure lying supine before him. Spock. His chest dipped and rose in easy patterns, but still Jim stared, as if daring those lungs to give out, to stop their fluid movements. But up and down, up and down, Spock’s chest continued to move, and Jim eventually closed his eyes and gave another long sigh before continuing the mind-numbing chore of PADD paperwork. 

They had been on what the Admiralty had promised to be a routine mission - one that sought out a Federation treaty with the planetary parliamentary government from Kliwatte Prime, a planet whose First Contact had been friendly and stable. Admiral Archer’s orders, as officially approved by the Board of Admirals in Starfleet High Command, was to broach the subject of trade treaties and a possible formal Alliance with the people of Kliwatte. Archer specifically requested - although his tone suggested that “request” might be too feeble a word - that the Captain, First Officer, First Communications Officer, and First Security Officer personally beam down along with a veritable squadron of security personnel.

When they arrived on Kliwatte, chaos erupted - apparently, a civil war had just broken out, and rebels controlled the Parliamentary building. When they attempted to help the Prime Minister’s family escape, the rebels began to fire on the Enterprise crew, resulting in two fatal casualties from the Security Team and Spock getting shot with something akin to buckshot in his chest. They beamed aboard the Enterprise with the Prime Minister’s husband and their two children, leaving him behind as a captive. The minute the crew were back safely on the decks of the Enterprise, Bones had whisked Spock away and Jim began the long process of talks with the Admiralty over The Situation, as it was beginning to be known.

Now, hours later, Jim was able to stumble away from the Captain’s Office and Admiral Archer’s ire to come to Spock’s side. Even the knowledge that a full Federation Diplomatic Team was on its way to Kliwatte Prime at warp five didn’t allay his anxiety. Here he sat, trying to pass away the time with the necessary evils of filing and paperwork that came with Command positions, but all the while his mind was totally focused on Spock.

Spock, bleeding green all over the front of his uniform. Spock, leaning heavily on Jim, his voice coming breathy and high, not at all like his usual commanding tone, strong and low and determined. Spock, collapsing the instant his atoms collected on the transporter pad, pale and unconscious from blood loss and trauma.

Jim shook his head slightly as if to shake the images out of his very brain. McCoy had come by not an hour ago, checking on the Vulcan patient and his watchdog. He’d reassured Jim that Spock was going to be fine, wouldn’t even have any scars to tell of the incident when Bones was done with him. 

“He’s heavily sedated, Jim,” McCoy had soothed, patting Jim’s arm. “And that’s just to make sure we got all those little ball bearings out of his chest. When he comes out of that, he’ll automatically go into his Vulcan healing trance thing. Don’t worry, he’ll survive. He’s definitely been through worse, as awful as it sounds.”

Spock’s face had been relaxed, the forehead wrinkles that indicated the Vulcan’s brain was going at warp speed gone. Jim missed them. They usually preceded a long-winded lecture on why such-and-such of Jim’s plans were illogical and unnecessarily dangerous as a Starfleet Officer. When McCoy left, Jim tentatively reached out to Spock’s right hand, sitting so innocently there at his side. He wanted to touch, just to reassure himself that Spock really was alright - but his movement was arrested with the memory of Spock’s parents touching their fingers together in a very light Vulcan kiss, and he forced his hand back into his own lap. 

With a great deal of effort, Jim focused his attention back on the PADD at his fingertips. This was a requisition request from Engineering about… about warp cores? No, warp coils. Jim pressed the heels of his palms into his eyeballs. He probably should lay down for a nap - hell, he should probably just go back to his quarters and let Spock rest. 

A quiet noise before him froze Jim to his seat. He lowered his hands to see Spock’s head turned slightly toward him, and his eyes were wide, if a little glassy. 

“Hey,” Jim said softly, leaning forward. “How ya doing, Spock?”

Another low noise, indistinguishable as a groan or a word. Jim smiled encouragingly as Spock blinked once, twice, gazed up at the ceiling to get his bearings, then looked back at Jim.

“You’re beautiful,” Spock mumbled, locking eyes with Jim.

The captain blushed and chuckled. 

“You’re really out of it, Spock,” he whispered, and couldn’t resist the temptation to brush back the dark hair out of his First Officer’s eyes. 

“Did the doctor send you in here?” Spock continued, his words slurred around a thick tongue. He spoke as if he hadn’t even heard Jim.

“Yeah - kinda. Well, no, not really,” Jim winced. He pulled back from Spock’s warm forehead reluctantly. “Bones probably wouldn’t want me hanging around, but I just - I needed - I wanted - ”

He stuttered over the last few words, unsure what he wanted to say. 

Spock interrupted him anyway.

“You’re really beautiful,” he said again. The words were coming a little clearer now as Spock woke more and more. The glassiness in his eyes wasn’t gone, but at least it looked a little clearer than before.

Jim just shook his head and grinned.

“I can’t wait to tell Uhura about this,” he said, more to himself than Spock.

“Are you a model?” Spock asked, watching Jim with dark eyes. His hand drifted to Jim’s where it rested on the railing next to the biobed.

Jim actually laughed out loud. 

“What?” he asked. “Just go back to sleep, Spock. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“Can’t sleep. You’re so beautiful,” Spock repeated, and his eyes never left Jim’s face as he briefly rested his index and middle fingers over the back of Jim’s hand. 

The captain jerked his hand back, alarmed. “Spock,” he said gently, “you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re really out of it, buddy. Just go back to sleep.” On second thought, he added, “Do you want me to get Dr. McCoy?”

“Don’t need a doctor,” Spock muttered, blushing as he brought his hand back to his side. He kept watching Jim. “You’re a Human?”

“Yes, Spock,” Jim answered with a smile.

“We are t’hy’la,” Spock said, although there was a slight lift at the end of his sentence that made Jim wonder if he was asking a question after all.

“Yeah, you’re really out of it,” Jim said. “I don’t know what that means. You’re speaking Vulcan, Spock. Just go to slee-”

“You do not know we are t’hy’la?” Spock asked, struggling to sit up. 

Jim pressed him back to the bed with little effort, which made him feel good about how strong he was and the time he spent in the rec room until he realized that Spock was still under some pretty heavy sedatives and wasn’t fully able to access his faculties.

“Hey, slow down,” he grunted. 

Spock took advantage of Jim’s position and circled his wrist gently with both hands. Jim wanted to melt under the heat of Spock’s skin on his.

“T’hy’la,” Spock said dreamily, staring into Jim’s eyes.

“Sure, Spock, teela,” Jim said, stumbling over the unknown word.

“I can’t believe…” Spock began, and rubbed his thumb over Jim’s inner wrist awkwardly, with clunky motions. “You are my t’hy’la. How did I get so lucky?”

“I thought you didn’t believe in luck,” Jim murmured, shivering under Spock’s touch.

Spock smiled gently, his eyes crinkled in the corners. Jim sucked in a breath at the stunning sight. He’d only ever seen Spock smile once, at a surprise party for Hikaru when the Enterprise docked at Yorktown to refuel and Ben and Demora transported aboard for a few hours to spend time with him. Spock had been reserved, had greeted the two new Sulus with quiet gravity; but his facade was broken when Demora squealed and flew into her father’s arms as Hikaru entered the break room with Chekhov. Jim knew he should be watching the touching family reunion along with everyone else, but he couldn’t. He’d only had eyes for Spock, for the little smile curving his cheeks very slightly, for the way his eyes glowed with affection and sad recollection at the sight.

“Not luck,” he slurred, his eyes closing once more. He kept stroking Jim’s wrist. “You almost make me believe in miracles.”

That last part was difficult to discern, but Jim felt warm from his toes to the crown of his head. 

“You’re a hopeless romantic, you sap,” he whispered, but Spock had already fallen back asleep. Jim tried to rescue his hand from Spock’s grip, but even in an unconscious state Spock’s strength was a force to be reckoned with.

Someone cleared their throat behind him. Jim’s head whipped around, eyes wide. He looked, in all honesty, like a little boy who’d been caught stealing cookies.

Doctor M’Benga stood there, looking a little bashful as he walked forward.

“Captain, my apologies,” he said, a sly grin on his face. “I thought you’d heard me come in.”

“No - uh, yeah, no worries,” Jim stuttered, trying to release his hand from Spock’s.

Geoff shook his head and patted Jim’s shoulder. “It’s no use,” he said, indicating the vice grip Spock had on Jim’s hand. “He’s in a healing trance right now instead of an induced coma with those crazy drugs. Spock probably won’t let you go, especially if you’re - um, t’hy’la.”

“What does that even mean?” Jim asked, resting his arm and trying not to be too frustrated with Spock’s sappy, romantic side. 

M’Benga just chuckled as he checked Spock’s vitals. “I’ll let him explain that,” he said vaguely. He patted Jim’s shoulder once more. “Good night, Captain. Spock should awaken in about four to six hours, depending on the extent of his injuries. Do you want anything before I leave?”

“No, thanks though,” Jim said, and listened as Dr. M’Benga walked out of medbay. The door hissed shut behind him. 

Jim sighed, focused once more on Spock. He frowned at the tranquil face, the pointed eyebrows and delicately curved ears, simultaneously dreading and looking forward to the conversation he was sure they would have tomorrow morning.

Sharp pains in his shoulders and back startled Jim awake hours later. He groaned and winced when his arm, thoroughly asleep, tingled harshly. His attention was arrested, however, by a very awake Spock. He was still lying supine, but his face was open and clear, and his quiet gaze was focused on Jim. The captain also noticed that his arm was still held in a tight but welcome grip.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gravelly and low with sleep. “How’re you feeling?” 

To his dying day, Jim couldn’t swear whether the reaction was automatic or not, but he rubbed Spock’s hand with the captive thumb in soothing circles.

His First Officer flinched slightly, eyes widening in surprise. “Jim,” he said, voice hesitant and reverent all at once. He didn’t release the arm he held tight.

Jim swallowed, love and affection welling up in him. He acknowledged to himself - finally, finally - that he really did love Spock, and this, this waking up to Spock’s gaze and Spock’s touch, it was so wonderful and he never wanted to go without it again, didn’t know if he could, and Spock’s words last night were nothing, the ramblings of a drugged man. He couldn’t help feeling another type of pain in his chest - disappointment. He really shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, he reproached himself, tugging his arm away from Spock gently. He was just drugged up, he didn’t mean anything by it, it was awfully unethical of him to even be in that position with a subordinate - 

“You think extremely loud,” Spock said, his eyes sparkling with a smile. Jim’s face lit up with a fierce red blush and he finally succeeded in jerking his arm back. 

“God, I’m so sorry,” he said, shoving his chair backwards with an awkward jolt as his limbs continued to awaken. He forced himself to look away from Spock’s surprised and hurt expression, resigning himself to pay penance for his stupidity with at least another four hours with PADD paperwork in his quarters. Of course Spock had read his thoughts and emotions. He’d so foolishly left his hand in Spock’s when he should have tried harder to get away. Now Spock knew - he had to know - of Jim’s affections, and surely he was about to gently tell his Captain that he was flattered, but couldn’t possibly feel the same way -

His racing thoughts were interrupted when Spock reached out and grabbed Jim’s hand.

“Please, sit,” Spock requested, his voice barely above a whisper. Jim cursed himself as he sat. He still couldn’t say no to his First. “I apologize for my behavior and words earlier.” His movements were calm, as if Jim might scare easily and run away. He held onto Jim’s wrist again with his left hand, and with his right he cupped Jim’s face, brushed his strong cheekbone, his temple, the tip of his ear, with his thumb, stroking back and forth with sure movements. Jim found that he counted each pass of his thumb like he’d counted each breath just hours ago.

“I - you don’t have to apologize,” Jim replied, his eyes locked on Spock’s as he leaned into the touch. “You were pretty out of it.” And so am I, he thought, as desperate to get away from Spock’s touch-telepathy as he was to lean into his warmth.

“Yes, I recall,” Spock said, regret in his eyes. “It was quite un-Vulcan of me.”

“You remember?” Jim asked. 

Spock raised one eyebrow at him, and Jim knew he would be alright.

“I do have an eidetic memory, Captain,” he said, amused. “Although my state was altered by sedating drugs, I do recall the gist of our interaction.”

“And?” Jim asked, hesitant. He tensed, not wanting Spock to stop touching him.

Spock simply guided Jim’s head down and reached up to press a light, chaste kiss to his lips.

“And I regret not being lucid to tell you that we are t’hy’la,” Spock rasped when he pulled away. Their faces were only inches apart, and Spock traced his thumb over Jim’s lips. “And that you feared my reaction to your feelings for me. You must be assured, Jim, that they are returned most ardently.”

Jim couldn’t speak. He wanted to tease Spock for using words like “ardently,” he wanted to yell and whoop and comm everyone on board and say “in your face” to McCoy who told him just last week that the Vulcan couldn’t possibly feel affection for anyone, he wanted to kiss Spock silly, he wanted - 

“Jim, I shall have to teach you how to shield your mind from me,” Spock said, a small smile adorning his lips, and a faint olive dusting his cheeks. “Please do not use the Captain’s intercom to tell the entire ship that we’re romantically involved.”

“Romantically involved, huh?” Jim said, grinning. He kissed Spock again, lightly, sensitive to his injuries. “That means you’ll have to tell me what that Vulcan word means, you know.”

“In time,” Spock said, cupping Jim’s face once more in his hand. “It also means you are not allowed to tell Dr. McCoy anything I said while I was incapacitated.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “But you -” he started to complain, but when Spock kissed him again he forgot what he was going to say entirely.


End file.
